And Still We Smile
by TutorGirlml
Summary: PostRevelations Scenes that in my mind fill in some of the blanks after Reid's abduction and how he and the team deal with it.
1. Chapter 1

(Obviously I don't own "Criminal Minds" or any of the characters or have anything to do with it, other than being a fan. I'm just entertaining myself, and hopefully maybe a few others…)

And Still We Smile… 

By: TutorGirlml

Chapter One

_"We wear the mask that grins and lies,_

_ It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes –_

_ This debt we pay to human guile;_

_ With torn and bleeding hearts we smile."_

_- Paul Laurence Dunbar_

Reid stood again, shakily, feeling almost dazed, both from suddenly being freed and back with his team, and from the throbbing, near-crippling pain in his left foot and ankle. Crossing his arms protectively over his lanky torso, he started to move away from Hankel's body and nearly feel when the majority of his body weight shifted to the injured extremity.

Wincing, he regained his balance and took a more tentative step, gritting his teeth against the pain. Suddenly, he realized how isolated and helpless he felt. He might be safe, but he was alone with the knowledge of all that had happened to him with Tobias, and all that had gone on in his mind. He didn't know if he'd ever be able to share it with any of them, and he desperately wanted to let the horror out, even as he forced himself to bury it.

Almost without thinking, he patted the two vials he'd slipped into his pocket moments before, already wondering when he could escape again. For the first time since he'd been eighteen, reality he'd let himself forget was pressing back in with a weight too heavy for him to bear. Not only was he hurt, traumatized, and shot full of drugs, but after the flashbacks of his mother and what he'd done, a small part of him whispered that he'd deserved to be punished, just as Raphael had decreed.

'_Get moving,' _he told himself, willing his feet to take another step.

It was then that Morgan appeared at his side; tall and solid, reaching out as Reid felt himself teeter painfully again. "Reid, you okay?" Morgan asked, putting a bracing arm around his waist and giving Reid no choice but to put one of his arms over the larger man's shoulders and let him help him forward.

Reid looked at his friend, finding words a complete impossibility. He had no answer for a question that was usually so simple. _'Was he okay?' _Honestly, it was touch and go at the moment. Instead of responding he opted to just concentrate of leaning on Derek and taking the next couple of steps forward.

"Did he take something from you?" Morgan asked bluntly after a minute, breaking into the flurry of thoughts rocketing around in Reid's head.

"What?" Reid asked, completely taken aback.

"Well, I saw you get something from Hankel's pocket, just before I came up up to you. I thought maybe he'd taken something of yours."

"Oh," Reid nodded, his brain kicking back into gear to cover his tracks. "Yeah, he did, but I've got it back."

Morgan let it drop, but something in his dark eyes still looked concerned; gauging, wondering. Reid knew then that he was going to have a hard time keeping this from people who practically read minds for a living. Did he really want to anyway? Well, yes, because he _had_ to. Right at this moment, there didn't seem to be any other choice. He was going to hold onto the Dilaudid, if only as a reassuring sort of security blanket, and he couldn't bear to deal with their disappointment or hurt if they knew.

"It's good to have you back," Morgan said, his voice serious – almost hesitant – in an unfamiliar, more emotional tone than Reid was used to hearing from him. "Don't know what we'd have done…Well, it's just good to see your face again," he finished awkwardly.

Reid gave him a small smile of acknowledgement, not knowing what to say. The nightmare of the last twenty-four hours had had him preparing himself to never see any of the BAU team – his family – again. He'd known he was digging his own grave and about to die. Tobias could have shot him at any second. If Hotch hadn't understood that one clue he'd been able to drop… A shudder ran through his body inspite of his resolve to hold himself together.

"What's wrong?" Morgan asked quickly, feeling the tremor.

"It's nothing," Reid tried to hedge, seeing that they were finally nearing the others, and the ambulance that they must have called ahead of time.

Morgan studied him again, "Reid…"

"I just wasn't sure I'd be seeing any of you again," Reid finally admitted. "I almost resigned myself to it…and then I saw those flashlight beams…"

Morgan, as uncharacteristic as it was, couldn't seem to stop himself from suddenly pulling Reid into a tight, desperate hug. Pain shot through Reid's many injuries at the squeezing contact, yet he sunk into the comfort of it for several seconds, grateful.

As he pulled away, Morgan murmured, his deep voice raspy but emphatic, "We would _never _have left you. You know that right? No way in hell we would have rested until we got you back."

There wasn't really a fitting answer to this either, not one to reassure Morgan's sudden show of guilty emotion. Reid knew they hadn't deserted him, that they'd been looking for him franticly, come as fast as they could – yet he had still been terrifyingly and completely alone with a psychotic killer. His mind had been forced to places he'd never allowed it to wander on its own. And that wouldn't disappear simply because he was free again. "I do know that," Reid finally said as they reached the ambulance and Morgan stepped back to let EMTs look at his young colleague.

Their eyes met solemnly for just a moment, and Reid found the best words he had. Swallowing hard, he said, "Thanks for coming after me."

Morgan merely nodded, his eyes warm and caring. As Reid let himself be loaded into the ambulance, Morgan could only be glad that they really did have him back, and hope that there hadn't been too much damage done.


	2. Chapter 2

Once again, I don't own it, I'm just playing with the characters for a while.

And Still We Smile

Chapter Two

_"Each man's life touches so many other lives._

_ When he isn't around he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he?"_

_- from the movie "It's A Wonderful Life"_

Just before the ambulance doors were slammed closed and they whisked Reid off to the hospital, Jennifer Jareau managed to push past Prentiss, Hotch, several EMTs, and Morgan – trumping even Gideon with her urgency – and managed to hoist herself into the back of the ambulance and secure herself the ride with Reid to the ER. She had to be near him and see for herself that he was still with them, that he was still 'him' after all they'd witnessed happening to him via the video feed of Tobias'. There were things she had to say, and had to hear from him, without the five ever-present other people around.

She perched gingerly on the bench seat in the side of the ambulance, so close to the stretcher Reid lay on that she banged her knees against it awkwardly as they pulled back out of the rutted gravel drive to the old forgotten cemetery. She nervously wet her upper lip with the tip of her tongue, unsure of how to start. "Spence?" she finally whispered, her breath feathery with fear and stress and relief.

He glanced over to meet her eyes, and the dazed look he'd been wearing a moment ago focused on her. "JJ?" he replied, sounding curiously bemused. His hand fumbled over the sheet covering him – reaching for her hand, she realized – and she clutched it gratefully, gathering his long, agile fingers up in hers and squeezing reassuringly. "What is it?" he asked.

'_Obviously, this has affected his intuition at all,'_ her mind noted. Apparently, nothing could slow his amazing brain power, or turn it off for even a second. The question was, Would he still want anything to do with her? Did he blame her? The thoughts didn't quit careening through her head until she leaned over him, clutching the hand she still held to her chest, and brushed a sweat-soaked, matted string of hair off his forehead. "I'm so sorry, Spence," she whispered. "I should have had your back. I know it. Everyone else of the team knows it. This is my fault…I screwed up. I'm sorry."

He blinked rapidly, trying to process her words, but finding himself completely confused. Was she seriously blaming herself for this? There wasn't anything she could have done. Luckily, he had the chance to tell her just that. He didn't know how to fix the damage from anything else that had happened to him since they'd went to Hankel's house, but he could at least fix this.

"JJ, this isn't your fault. What could you have done? If anybody got me kidnapped, it was myself. I took off, when you weren't sure we should split up. I followed Tobias into that cornfield and left you alone. When I heard you scream…and those gunshots…JJ, I could very easily have gotten you killed, or eaten alive by mad dogs, or taken as well. I would never have forgiven myself if he'd done to you what he…" here Reid trailed off, his eyes flickering away from hers, but she squeezed his hand again, urging him to continue if he needed. "You didn't do anything wrong," he finally repeated. His eyes were honest and sincere; desperate to make things at least feel okay again. "If anyone should be apologizing, it's me to you."

"Why don't we just call ourselves even?" she suggested, finally relaxing with the knowledge that he didn't blame her or hate her for what had happened to him on "her watch" as she saw it. "I'm just glad you're here with us," she added.

"Me too," Reid affirmed, though his voice sounded hazy again instead of fervent as it had a moment before. Then those intelligent, expressive eyes closed, and he slipped off into either sleep or unconsciousness, JJ couldn't be sure which. But she leaned back, resting against the side of the ambulance, realizing that he was in good hands. She was almost sagging with the tension and adrenaline draining out of her, and she let out a long-held breath, but she continued to cling to his hand. She wasn't going to let go anytime soon. No one was going to take him away from them again. Not while she could help it.


	3. Chapter 3

And Still We Smile

Chapter Three

_"What a frightening thing is the human: a mass of gauges and dials and registers;_

_ that we can read only a few, and those perhaps not accurately."_

_- ?_

Reid woke up suddenly, eyes squinching back shut again almost immediately as they met with what seemed like blinding light. Carefully, he tried to pry them open again, slowly this time, needing to figure out where he was, what was going on, and if he could get something to quench the tormenting thirst he felt.

As his eyes finally stayed open and began to glance around the room, he was greeted by a warm, bubbly voice that could only belong to one person.

"Hey, Sugar," it greeted cheerfully as he turned to see Penelope Garcia's bright red smile and twinkling eyes behind her funky glasses. "Gonna wake up and smell the coffee like the rest of us, are ya?"

"Maybe," he mumbled, his voice scratchy and his head pounding. "But I'd settle for some water at the moment."

"You got it," she said kindly, reaching over to a pitcher and cup that sat on the nightstand by his bed and pouring him a drink.

He reached for it and struggled to raise his shoulders off the pillow to take a sip. But Garcia beat him to it, placing a maternal hand on his back and supporting him to a sitting position, and bringing the cool liquid directly to his lips.

"Thanks," Reid croaked, honestly feeling a bit embarrassed at his need for such basic help, yet grateful at the same time. He was still too sore to want to move more than he had to. Every part of him ached.

"Anytime, Sweetie," she grinned happily, pleased to be able to do something – anything – for him. She'd felt so helpless not long ago, sitting in front of Hankel's bank of computers and seeing Reid hurt, drugged, and going into a seizure and very nearly dying. She hadn't been able to do anything at all. Garcia wasn't used to not having a way to help; wasn't used to being stumped like that. She was supposed to be Tech Goddess Supreme, always ready with the answers. In a way, she felt like she'd failed Reid, like it was her fault it had taken so long to find him. But all she added was a bright, "Anything else I can get cha?"

"Yeah," he sighed, laying back into the pillows, exhausted again by just that small amount of exertion. Judging by how coherent he felt, and the fact that only Garcia seemed to be there and not the whole group, and that Garcia seemed to be her usual chipper self, Reid assumed he must be pretty much alright. Probably he was simply bruised, sore, coming off a lot of drugs, and recovering from shock. "Can you give me a report on what the doctors have said about me? Am I basically going to be alright?"

"Right as rain in no time, Peaches," Garcia giggled, obviously pleased at coming up with yet another nickname, seemingly on the spur of the moment.

"Seriously?" he questioned, beyond relieved at her report.

"Well, everyone else seemed to think so," Garcia clarified, smiling again and patting his hand. "The doctor's talking detailed diagnosis with Hotch and Gideon as we speak, but everyone seemed to think you just needed a little time to rest and recover."

Reid nodded, mulling this over. His head hurt enough that he wasn't sifting through all her words as quickly as he normally would. But he was comforted by the fact that it seemed he was going to be fine. A twinge of something crept into his stomach right then, at the thought of being fine. Was he? A small shiver along his spine tried to warn otherwise, but he shook this worry away, repeating it to himself, _'Yes, everything's fine now. You're safe. You're back with the team. You're alive and everything's going to be fine.'_

Glancing down, he saw that he still wore his sweat-soaked, blood-stained, dirt-covered clothes. Surprised that he hadn't been put into a hospital gown, he absentmindedly felt his hand return once again to the pants pocket where he'd stashed the two bottles of Dilaudid. Their cool, glasses bodies curved into his palm comfortingly, whispering that they were there if he started to doubt his current mantra of everything being alright.

"Did they not admit me?" he asked Garcia curiously. "I'm not wearing one of those ridiculously flimsy robes."

"Apparently, you were passed out before they could get you changed, and JJ wouldn't let go of your hand for quite a while after you got here, and Gideon finally told them to leave it for now. I think you're staying overnight though, just for observation." Her eyes were playful now as she continued teasingly. "I'm sure they'll clean you up and make you put on one of those hospital gowns yet. And that'll be my cue to leave."

She winked, and he smiled weakly, but the idea of someone touching him made quick flashes was over him sickeningly, being shoved into that chair in that remote, forsaken cabin, Tobias backhanding him across the face, then shoving his sleeve up and poking that needle into his arm, the flashbacks of his mother, the stench, the picture of a gun pointed right between his eyes… Suddenly, he was shaking and sweating.

Garcia sensed that something had changed, and she leaned closer, trying to look into his eyes, which he shifted so she couldn't do. "Reid, are you okay?" she asked.

"Fine," Reid said quickly, tripping over his words and seeming nervous, agitated. "I'm just still pretty tired. Would you mind if I went back to sleep?"

"No, that's fine," she assured him, smiling reassuringly, "You get your sleep. It'll help you heal that much faster." She gave him one last smile and patted his arm, then stood. "I needed some fresh coffee and a cinnamon bun anyway." She leaned back over and gave him a peck on the forehead, which no doubt left a red print he'd have to wipe off once she left. "If you need something before I get back, Prentiss is sleeping right over here, okay?" She gestured towards the chairs back along the wall.

Reid felt slightly bad he hadn't even noticed Emily in the room, but shrugged it off. She was asleep after all. Garcia waved to him once more over her shoulder and then slipped out.

Glancing around to make sure that Prentiss was still soundly asleep, Reid painfully, carefully hoisted himself up to a sitting position, and wincing swung his legs over to hang off the side. Painstakingly, he stood and shuffled over to the bathroom in the far corner. With a last quick glance to make sure no one was going to burst in and catch him, he patted his pocket once more, checking, then stepped in and closed the door.


	4. Chapter 4

I still don't own this show or any of the characters either, but I'm entertaining myself at least. Thank you to those who took the time to review. I appreciate it. And now, on with the story…

And Still We Smile

Chapter Four

"No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man 

_ will store up in his ghostly heart."_

_- F. Scott Fitzgerald_

"So you're telling us that physically he should be fine, other than that left foot and ankle and some withdrawal symptoms from the Dilaudid?" Special Agent Aaron Hotchner was asking the doctor who'd been charged with Reid's care upon arrival. His gaze was serious – intense and perhaps a bit intimidating. He wanted straight answers. Reid had been through put through hell, and Hotch planned to know what all they were really going to be dealing with.

"I believe so, yes," the older ER doctor was answering, meeting Hotch's gaze evenly. "There are minor cuts and bruises obviously, but on the whole, the psychological healing is going to be much more of a concern than the physiological. It's amazing really how well he managed to come out of this as to the actual bodily harm sustained. I'm not going to pretend, however, that there won't be mental and emotional scars that will be much more severe."

Gideon nodded sadly, almost as if he'd expected this diagnosis, though it hurt him to hear it confirmed. Hotch felt for once as if he could read Jason's mind instead of it being the other way around. _'As supervisors – as heads of the team – shouldn't they have done a better job protecting their youngest member? How did things go so horribly wrong?'_

Firmly shrugging aside the thought that he knew would come next, _'Why did I send Reid and JJ out to Hankel's alone?" _Hotch turned his full attention back to the doctor, who was still speaking.

"In the line of work your team does, he could easily suffer flashbacks to this ordeal, triggered by one of your crime scenes. He could be jumpy, paranoid, irritable with people. He may even try to withdraw from everyone as a self-defense mechanism. I wouldn't even be shocked if he no longer felt able to work in the field."

Glancing over to Gideon again, Hotch could see that this last statement came at the older agent almost like a blow to the chest. But neither of them spoke, as if in silent agreement to let the man finish, even as they refused to accept that Reid couldn't overcome these odds.

"In summation, the lasting damage could be minimal; an occasional flashback or panic attack, etcetera. But it could just as easily be hugely impacting; with depression, constant fear and paranoia, if not dealt with properly. And when you take into account the family history…"

Hotch nodded again here, effectively cutting off the doctor's last statement before it could be voiced. That this could somehow trigger Reid's genetic predisposition to schizophrenia was almost too horrible to consider. "Thank you, doctor. We'll make sure to take care of him," was all that he said aloud.

The doctor took his hint and informed them that they could go back to Reid's room now, as long as the whole team didn't overwhelm him at once. Then Hotch turned to Gideon, speaking softly, feeling nearly as unsure as he had ever been. "We're going to survive this, Jason," he said firmly, his voice determined and hard as steel. "This team is going to be whole again. Reid is going to be fine."

And though Gideon nodded his silent agreement, he didn't speak or offer to look Hotch in the eye. Hotch wondered suddenly if Gideon truly did think he was right, or if he could already see with his uncanny intuition some sort of disaster ahead. In reality, he didn't even want to know what Gideon was seeing or thinking, if he was going to lead his team through this crisis, he was going to have to believe his own words.

As they returned to Reid's room and glanced through the window, they were surprised to see Garcia had left, though Prentiss was still sleeping in the bedside chair where they had left her. Oddly, it looked as though Reid had gotten up for some reason. He was lying on the bed, but he was no longer under the covers, and the way his arms and legs were flung haphazardly over the mattress, made it look as though he'd barely managed to get himself back across the room before flopping down in exhaustion.

Hotch's cell chose that moment to ring, and he turned away, retreating a few steps so as not to disturb the quiet, before he answered.

Gideon, however, quietly entered the room and stood for a while; looking at Reid, watching him sleep. Imprinting the image on his mind. He really did come back to them. They hadn't lost him yet, and now that he was with them again, there was no way they were going to lose him a second time because they couldn't help him deal with the aftermath. Surely, as a team – as a _family_ – they could fight this and win. Just like any other unseen enemy they would face.

Gently, he placed a hand on Prentiss' shoulder and woke her saying, "Why don't you catch a few winks on the other bed in here? You'd be more comfortable. I'll sit with him for a while."

She blinked and sat up, looking slightly embarrassed at being caught napping, but then smiled a 'thank you' and got up and did as he suggested. Watching her curl up tightly, he sighed, realizing they were all exhausted and feeling much less safe than they had a few days ago.

Taking the chair she'd vacated, Gideon scooted it closer to Reid's bed and reached out to lay a hand on the younger man's forearm, hoping it would provide a comforting touch. "We're all pulling for you, Reid," he spoke softly into the quiet, continuing to watch his protégée, this man he almost considered a son, fitfully sleep. "You're going to get through this."


	5. Chapter 5

Hey, sorry that this chapter was a bit later in coming than the previous ones, but it's a little longer to make up for the delay. Hopefully some of you out there are still enjoying it. Thanks again for the kind reviews. The ideas in this story are mine, but of course the show and its characters are still not.

And Still We Smile

Chapter Five

_"The double grief of a lost bliss is to recall its happy hour in pain."_

_- Dante_

"Hey ya, Hot Stuff," Garcia greeted, seeing Morgan sitting alone at a table as she entered the hospital's cafeteria. Her voice was muted from the outrageous flirtation it usually carried, but she still tried to keep it light, for both of their sakes. "Mind if I join you?"

"You know there's always a seat open for my Goddess," he replied, turning on his foolproof thousand-watt smile and patting the chair next to him.

She laughed outright, having known he would make her feel better amidst her worry over Reid. Plunking herself down across from him instead, she giggled and teased back, "I think I'd rather gaze into those sexy brown eyes of yours for awhile."

It was his turn to chuckle; a deep, rumbling, masculine sound from low in his chest, and the smile that accompanied it – all perfect white teeth against mocha skin – the two of them together nearly unmanned her normal wit. Garcia felt herself warm all the way to her toes in Derek Morgan's glow, though she'd never dare admit it, even to herself. Instead, she reasoned that something else must be making it hard for her to breathe all of a sudden.

"Fair enough," Morgan said easily, winking at her and leaning back in his seat. "I can watch that devilish mind of yours work better from here anyway."

They began to eat in companionable silence, both realizing that it was the most at ease they had felt since this whole mess began. Though neither of them took the banter they tossed back and forth too seriously, each valued the other as a welcome relief from the almost stifling seriousness they worked under. Talking to each other was a chance for a slight break; a moment to relax and a reason to smile.

More than anything, right at the moment anyway, they were both incredibly focused on eating. As they had gone nonstop until they found Reid and knew for sure that he was going to be alright, it had been quite some time since either of them had last ate.

Suddenly, a mischievous glint appeared in Morgan's eye as he polished off the last of his sandwich and fries. "Easy, Woman," he chided teasingly, grinning from ear to ear now. "Go any faster on that cinnamon roll and you'll choke on it."

She swallowed, smiling serenely as though she hadn't even heard him and then breezily replied, "I'd watch it, Cupcake," she warned, an evil gleam in her eyes as well. "Keep poking fun of my long-deprived sweet tooth, and I'll tell you exactly how much blubber you just layered over those abs of yours with the French fries I just watched you inhale."

"Touché," he conceded, shaking his head in disbelief. That was one thing about Garcia that never managed to stop surprising him. She was so quick – always ready with a comeback. It was almost funny to try to come up with a challenge for her, and then watch her respond so easily that it was clear she never had to wonder what to say.

As they finished and stood to take their trays, Morgan noticed her forehead crinkle up in a thoughtful frown. It was an expression she very rarely wore on her sunny face, and he noticed it immediately. "What's going on in that pretty blond head of yours?" he asked, trying to question her lightly instead of prying.

"I'm not completely sure," she started, looking him right in the eyes seriously, and then shaking her head. "I'm not actually a big, bad behavioral analyst, and I'm probably imagining things." She gave him a lopsided smile, trying to make him forget it, and then started to walk again.

But he stopped her easily, catching her by the elbow and slowly turning her back to face him. "Pen, wait," his voice was soft, questioning. "Let's hear what it is. You've got instincts that are just as valid as anyone else's. What is it, Baby Girl?"

She paused a second longer, studying him as she decided to speak up. But his prompting convinced her to go ahead. "It's probably silly, but I thought something seemed off with Reid when he woke up a while ago and I was talking with him. I know he's just been through something terrible and he won't go right back to normal, but I felt like he was being evasive. Like there was something he wanted to tell me and couldn't, or else that he was hiding and didn't want me to know at all. That may not make much sense, but it's wasn't a feeling I usually get from Reid, and there it was."

Morgan stared at her, taken aback by her perceptiveness. It was exactly the way he'd felt back at the scene as he'd helped Reid to the ambulance – like Reid wasn't telling him something; was hiding from him. It was nice to hear that someone else had noticed. "Mama, I think you're developing some mad skills, hanging out with us profilers all the time."

She beamed at him as they left the cafeteria at last. "You know it, Sweet Cheeks."

But she grew serious again as they headed back for Reid's floor. "Derek," she finally asked, as timidly as he had ever heard her speak, "do you think there's still something wrong with him? Is he not okay?" She'd honestly half-hoped he'd laugh her fears off as crazy worrying and tell her Reid was just fine now.

Morgan met her eyes and sighed tiredly, saying, " I don't know what it is yet. But you're right, something is off, and we're going to have to deal with it if we truly want to get Reid back."

- - ----

Meanwhile, Reid had awakened again to find JJ at his side this time. He could hear Gideon murmuring quietly in his restless sleep on the room's other bed, and he studied JJ for a moment while she was still unaware that he was awake. Her beauty was obvious to anyone who bothered to look, though he had never spoken this recurring thought to anyone. Her silky blond hair fell over her shoulders, shielding her face, as she leaned over the book she was reading.

Something about her, despite that she'd seen and dealt with all the horrific and despicable cases the rest of them had, still seemed so open and kind. She could be tough when necessary, and certainly when she dealt with the press, she was all business and professionalism. But, at times like this, when she was alone and unaware, there was still a soft gentleness about her. She hadn't formed the permanent hard exterior the others had, not completely. And just then, that comforted him immensely. Someone ought to get to keep just one small shred of innocence.

He was glad that it was her sitting there just then, he needed someone to simply be there, calm and soothing, which she could do. Morgan sensed something was wrong, he knew Reid was trying to hide from him. Hotch would try, but having his boss hovering over him would make Reid feel like he needed to be up doing something, getting back on the job. Gideon would be studying him much too closely, probably reading his mind. Garcia would be attempting to cheer him up when he just couldn't yet, and he didn't know Prentiss well enough to be comfortable with her one on one. Yes, he was glad he had JJ right now. She wasn't a profiler; wouldn't pick him apart, maybe she'd just talk to him, give him a pat on the hand or a smile.

She looked up as his eyes were still fixed on her, and she jumped, startled to discover that his brown eyes were open and watching her read. "Spence, you're awake," she said needlessly, smoothing back her sheet of blond hair and smiling at him. "How do you feel?"

He started to answer her, then noticed that her forearm was covered almost from wrist to elbow in stark, white bandages. Was that from tangling with Hankel's dogs? How had he not noticed earlier when she'd crawled in the ambulance with him that she was hurt?

"JJ? Are you okay?" he asked, concern making his voice go a notch higher. He nodded to her arm, his eyes betraying his obvious upset.

She followed his glance, then shook her head, trying to brush it off lightly. "It's not serious," she assured him. "No rabies or anything. They just cleaned it up and are keeping it covered for a couple days while it heals."

He let out a relieved breath, but his eyes looked guilty. "The dogs attacked you after I took off. I heard you scream, and that's when I headed back for the barn." He paused, then continued, "But as you know, I didn't get there. I can't believe I left you like that."

She reached out to take his hand, her touch light, but warm and caring. "Don't do that to yourself, Spence," she said, hating to see him blame himself for her injury when he'd been through so much worse. "You may be a genius, but you can't know what might happen in every single situation life will throw at you. If I'm going to be in the field with you guys, I'll have to be able to hold my own. And hey, it's nothing that won't heal."

He smiled back sadly, aware that he could no longer assume that she, or himself, or anyone on this team that he felt were his family, would always manage to come through their cases safely. But he finally felt himself let the blame for this one go. This hadn't been he or JJ's fault. With a hesitant, feather-light touch, his fingertips ghosted over the bandage on her arm, feeling her still solid and intact beneath the wrapping. A small hiss escaped her lips after a few moments, and he drew back quickly, realizing it must be tender and berating himself for touching her when he should have known it would hurt.

"You're sure you're okay?" he asked uncertainly.

She nodded, letting a little laugh escape to convince him. "That third mutt managed to sink a bite into me while I was fending off the other two. But I think he got the worse end of the deal."

Reid smiled, acknowledging her jest, and that he realized she did know how to handle herself, and leaned back against the pillows. He didn't want to think about what had, and what could have, happened to her. He didn't want to have mere memories of good times, like the laughs they'd shared that time at the Redskins game, their many card games on the plane, and the surprise party at the office for his birthday that he knew she'd been considerate enough to plan. He wanted everything to be okay again. "I'm glad you're alright," he said.

She laid a hand on his forehead, gazing into his eyes for a long minute before she responded. "Same for you," she whispered. "Let's make sure we stay that way."


	6. Chapter 6

I've borrowed just a few tiny details from a couple of first season episodes, and a smidge of dialogue and the hints that Reid's suffering flashbacks from the episode that aired next after "Revelations." Still don't own any of it. Hope you enjoy!

And Still We Smile

Chapter Six

_"No man, for any considerable period, can wear one face to himself,_

_ and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to_

_ which may be the true."_

_- Nathaniel Hawthorne_

A few more days' time saw Spencer Reid stepping out of the elevator and back into the bustling offices of the BAU. Cradling a latte for himself and a caramel macchiato for Morgan, he stood for a moment, feeling equal parts awkwardly hesitant and incredibly grateful to be back.

"Reid!" Morgan called jovially at that moment, waving him over to their desks in the bullpen where he already sat. "My man, it's good to have you back." He clapped Reid on the shoulder as he stood to greet him and take his favorite drink from Reid's hand as he offered it. "Thanks," he added.

"Everyone else is here already?" Reid questioned, glancing around, but not seeing any of the other members of his team.

"Gideon, Hotch, and Prentiss are in the round table room; JJ's got a new case for us."

As if to prove Morgan's words, JJ came walking by them just then, her arms full of case files, her smart skirt swishing about her knees, her blond ponytail swinging. "Morgan, Reid," she said, giving Reid a welcoming smile as she passed them and went up the stairs to begin the briefing, "you guys coming?"

"You bet," Morgan said, pushing off the desk he'd been leaning against, his agile, strong frame unfolding and leading the way as Reid followed, hoping no one could tell that the words "new case" had caused a strange quiver in his stomach.

Usually the start of a new job for the BAU had Reid tingling with excitement. The mental challenge, the race against time, the vital feeling of making a difference, of perhaps for the first time in his life belonging in a group, of knowing why he'd been given the mind that he had, all thrilled him in a way he never felt anywhere else. But, now, having been one of the victims changed all that. He felt it at that moment as he silently entered the conference room last, trailing Morgan and JJ.

He settled into a seat toward the back of the room by Emily, who gave him a nod in greeting, and forced himself not to fidget and sip his coffee. It was ridiculous to be nervous, he tried unsuccessfully to scold himself. _'Tobias is dead and you're still here. You won,' _his mind whispered. A shock ran through him, stopping him cold as the words echoed emptily through his head. Almost exactly what he'd said to Elle all those months ago in Ohio. And though she _had _still been standing, she obviously hadn't been alright. Now he could see what he hadn't at the time, and it pained him to realize how blind he'd been to what she was going through. Her jaded, _'Well then, here's to winning,' _suddenly seemed much more fitting. He certainly didn't feel like he'd won at all; he had merely managed to survive.

Pushing that all back, he turned his attention to JJ as she began her presentation. _'Just listen. Focus,' _he told himself. _'You can do this. It's your job. Don't make them worry even more; you certainly don't want to be taken off the case and have to spend more time alone in your apartment.' _The full vial of Dilaudid still sitting unused in his bathroom cabinet mocked him there, and the half-empty one tucked into a hidden pocket of his messenger bag practically cackled its gleeful victory over him whenever it grew quiet in his mind. The drug taunted and lured him. He had to stay away from his own four quiet, lonely walls and all the new thoughts and fears he was left with.

"…The victims have all disappeared from their homes in Westchester County in the middle of the night. Local PD is starting to fear they're dealing with a series of hate crimes." She turned toward the screen, punching the remote button in her hand as she did. As the pictures flashed up and she introduced them to the newest victims, Reid shifted in his seat, and felt himself squirming inside.

Crime scene photos had never bothered him before. He had knelt beside a dead body many times; to examine a flint knife broken off in a victim's brain, or to determine the gender of a mostly decomposed skeleton, or in any number of other bloody, macabre scenarios. However, now, just seeing pictures of the victims was breaking him out in a cold sweat. Reid brushed an errant lock of hair out of his face behind his ear, swallowed tightly, and hoped none of the others had noticed yet that he wasn't piping in with his usual flow of information.

JJ continued unfazed, flicking the remote again, bringing up a final picture of the most recent victim – Sandra Davis. She was laid out on the grass, leaves strewn all around her, her eyes wide open but rendered forever unseeing. And at the sight of her like that, Reid could again feel himself being drug across the hard ground from a cornfield, rocks and dirt clods bumping along his body, bruising and scratching as Tobias took him. He saw it again just as it had been that night. Felt all over again the sense that he was going to be slaughtered like any other victim of any unsub they'd profiled. Amid flashes of waking up handcuffed in a chair in some remote cabin, having a loaded gun pointed right between his eyes, a backhand blow nearly knocking him off his seat, having to choose which one of those innocent people should die…he was back there again with nightmare suddenness.

It wasn't the first time he'd had a flashback. The Dilaudid he'd begrudgingly dosed himself was largely gone due to such flashbacks, and the shaky fear that followed them, saying he would never be free of them, never be the same again.

Gideon studied Reid carefully from across the table as they all leafed through the case files, peering at the younger man through the wire-rimmed glasses perched on the end of his nose as he appeared to be perusing only the papers in front of him. Reid was doing an admirable job hiding it, but Gideon could see that he'd been on edge and nervous since they'd entered the conference room. It was his first day back, and Gideon had hoped it might be quiet and uneventful; that they wouldn't fly out on a job until Reid regained his bearings, but apparently that was not meant to be. What he needed to know was if Reid was ready to go out with them – and if he was okay behind the mask of normalcy he had already put on for them this morning.

"Alright people," Hotch said, effectively ending the meeting and making Reid jerk slightly as he snapped back to the present. "Wheels up in 20 minutes."

As the whole group stood, grabbing their case files, bags, and coffees, and heading back to lockers and desks to get their things, Reid managed to slip out quietly, slinging the strap of his bag over his shoulder. He needed to make one quick detour before he could head out with them to Connecticut.

Taking off down the hall with his long, quick stride, Reid glanced over his shoulder upon reaching the restrooms, then darted inside. Locking the door behind him, he then bent and began franticly rifling through the bag, scrabbling until his fingers closed around cool, small cylindrical glass. Pulling it out, a tremor ran through him as he saw the clear liquid drug; his secret ally and sworn enemy at once. His hands for a second took up the shaking he'd grown familiar with as he would vacillate between another dose and flushing it all down the toilet. He was truly breaking out in sweat now, even more than he had been in the briefing.

Heart pounding, he sighed, knowing he would do it and rubbing a hand over his tired eyes in defeat. He bit his lip, hating himself for continuing with something he knew to be so foolish and harmful, for even taking the Dilaudid off Tobias' body in the first place. But now – right now – he couldn't quit; he needed it. He had to calm his nerves enough to do his job. He loved his work and the BAU, and didn't want to lose his role on the team. What else did he have in his life beyond that?

Without allowing any more time for debate, Reid moved with fingers that had suddenly turned deft and sure. Finding the needle he'd hidden in a zippered compartment of his bag as well, he filled it with the drug, then rolled up one sleeve of the cardigan he wore, located a vein near the bend of his elbow, and poised his finger to depress the plunger.

Just then, a commanding voice sounded, seeming to be right outside the bathroom door. "Has anyone seen Reid?" Hotch's voice questioned. Skittish, Reid nearly panicked and tossed the needle and the Dilaudid back into the pocket without taking any, and zipped it closed. Splashing cold water on his face and the back of his neck, he drew a few shaky breaths as he patted his skin dry and determinedly avoided his own eyes in the mirror.

_'I'll just have to handle this one on my own,' _he told himself firmly, hoping that he still could. Surely he could still function without it.

Then he scurried out the door, seemingly managing to appear from thin air at Hotch's elbow. "Right here," he said calmly in answer to his supervisor's earlier question on his whereabouts. Though he could hardly believe it possible, he was relieved when Hotch let his momentary disappearance and quiet demeanor in the meeting go. And with that he proceeded to plaster on a bland smile and slip the calm, intellectual, non-tormented mask back over his face for another day.


	7. Chapter 7

(Thanks again to everyone that has been reading and reviewing on this story! It means so much to know that people are liking it. Sorry it's been over a week, but here's the next installment.)

And Still We Smile

Chapter Seven

_"There is no privacy that cannot be penetrated. No secret can be kept in a_

_ civilized world. Society is a masked ball, where everyone hides his real_

_ character – and reveals it by hiding."_

_- Ralph Waldo Emerson_

Somehow, Reid managed to hold it together for the duration of the case in Connecticut. It wasn't that he wanted to experience a high or liked the feel of the drug in his system, after all, it was that sometimes the fear and anxiousness and feelings of failure almost overtook him and became too much if he couldn't relieve them for a while. And he supposed wryly that rationalizing like that was exactly how people moved from users to addicts, bit by awful bit.

Still, there were moments when he sensed his own nerves and guilt were about to get the better of him. Moments when he'd have to pause over a case file or before he spoke because of the shakes, or a cold sweat, or a sudden blitz of panic clawing up his throat. And as he'd pause to fight it down and regain control, he'd catch Morgan's concerned, and perhaps a little suspicious, glances, or Gideon's thoughtful, studying gaze – and in those moments he would almost crack and spill everything to them. Only his pride and fear of their being disappointed in him kept him from pouring it all out and begging for their help. Many times, he nearly took the Dilaudid he had on him to Hotch and confessed all, but he couldn't quite make himself follow through on it. Couldn't bear for them to know how weak he'd been – he wanted to prove to them that he was fine, that he'd recovered and could handle being on the job again. Because if he couldn't, would they leave him behind? Would they be sorry, but then go on with their lives and their cases, like they all – himself included – had done with Elle? Where would he be then if he lost them? _Who _would he be? They were all he had…

Emily Prentiss had unfortunately borne the brunt of his frustration and desperation to keep hiding when it had finally flared up and exploded during their case in Texas a few weeks back. She'd made the mistake of voicing her concern about his behavior to him and he lashed out, angrier than he had any right to be in his response. He knew it, and regretted his outburst seconds later, but by then the damaged had been done, and he couldn't even seem to bring himself to apologize to her. His purposefully missing her calls, and a flight with her and Morgan yesterday, hadn't improved matters, and she was now cutting him a pretty wide berth, not even attempting to speak to him.

A part of him wanted to be called on his behavior; wanted them to find him out and force him to get help. But the other part, the sadly larger part that was continually winning his internal debate, didn't want to admit that he was a victim of something that had slipped out of his control. The truth was, he feared that they wouldn't understand why he'd done what he had, that even they wouldn't be able to help him, or wouldn't actually care enough to try when it really came down to it. Though Reid did consider his team the best friend he'd ever had, he realized that he had only let them in so far and only trusted them with so much; too many people he'd thought he could depend on had let him down in the past and he couldn't seem to completely give over his secrets – to anyone.

So now, here he was, adrift in New Orleans as they studied an unsub who was eerily reminiscent of Jack the Ripper. They had arrived knowing most of their evidence had been washed away in Katrina, and that though this killer had had several victims, and was continuing to take more in rapid succession, they were pretty much starting from scratch as far as their case was concerned.

Just then, JJ came walking up to him, taking a cell phone away from her ear and closing it with a snap. "They've just found another body," she announced, looking around the room they'd set up in at the station. "There's not much doubt it's our unsub."

"Let's go then," Gideon sighed heavily, rising from his seat and leading them out the door and to the waiting SUVs. He knew that they would find this unsub just as they did most of them – they merely needed time and an accurate profile. What he hated was that this particular subject was especially vicious in their kills and acting on an accelerated timetable. There were going to be even more dying before they got a break on this one brought the vengeful spree to an end. He hated seeing needless people die because they simply were not fast enough.

Upon reaching this latest dump site, they were greeted once again by a somber William LaMontagne Jr. "Are we getting' any closer to this guy?" he asked, his warm drawl sounding colored by discouragement and lack of sleep. "So much of New Orleans is still devastated, and we've got something like this going on in the little bit of it that's been left standing."

"We'll find him," JJ assured, laying a hand on his arm for a moment reassuringly. "And with the connection you hold for him, because of your father, we need you in on this. Hang in there."

He nodded, gratefully returning her small but determined smile with one of his own. He had no intention of disappointing his late father, and so he had to keep going.

In another situation, JJ comforting the detective and her physical contact with him might have upset Reid, or had him wishing he were brave enough or smooth enough to actively seek her comfort and attention. Normally, he might have felt as vaguely jealous as he ever really got. But he merely twitched his gaze away quickly, irritated, and not needing anything more to torment his peace of mind just then.

Meanwhile, Gideon had bent over the body, examining the slashed throat and other injuries. Motioning Reid forward so that he could show him a peculiar one of the many lacerations on the victim's torso, he actually missed the expression of trepidation on his young colleague's face. But Reid did step up to the body, quickly re-schooling his features not to reveal any of the revulsion and nausea suddenly rising in his throat.

Swallowing hard, he knelt beside his mentor and managed not to flinch as Gideon pointed out the particularly nasty gouge that appeared to enter and then slice neatly around all the major organs like someone had been carving meat. He even managed to choke out some plausible theory on their reason for doing it, and an obscure fact about Jack the Ripper and some of the macabre keepsakes he had taken from his victims. But he could barely hear his own voice speaking and through the roaring suddenly engulfing his head he hardly registered enough to know what he had said.

He could feel the shaking starting again in his limbs, and if he didn't get away, everyone else was going to notice too. Panicked, wishing he had found a way to sneak some of the Dilaudid that morning when he had wanted to, he stood quickly, awkwardly mumbling some sort of an excuse about forgetting or needing to get something, and backed away from the group.

Walking off as fast as he could without arousing suspicion, he began looking for someplace to hide, to get himself together. Before long he came to a deserted, shadowy alley and slipped down it.

Before he had hardly stopped, he was bent over, heaving, vomiting his repulsion and fear out on the wall and ground in the alley. He couldn't stop, emptying his stomach of all he'd eaten and still pulling up acid and bile, as if his body would never be purged of all the poisons that were battering it from the inside and out. Both his mind and his body were betraying him suddenly, unable to continue the charade. At least he had gotten away from the others first. He needed help, but he couldn't ask for it, even now.

Finally, he stopped heaving and slumped down, rocking back on his heels and wrapped an arm around his torso and swiping the other across his mouth. Planting his hands on the ground, he tried to push himself up, but found his was too weak to stand yet. And too empty and defeated to even want to get up and rejoin his team. Falling forward to his knees, head bowed slightly, he had to wonder if the misery would ever end.

Then, a hand came to rest on his shoulder with a gentle squeeze. Startled, Reid jerked away, for a second his paranoia tricking him into thinking his running away to this alley had lured him into the unsub's grasp. But when he turned his head and met eyes with Gideon, he knew he was facing a much more reasonable fear. He hadn't been careful enough this time; Gideon had figured it out and followed him. Now he knew Reid wasn't alright and there wouldn't be any more hiding or sneaking under his radar.

"Reid?" Gideon questioned softly, not saying anything more, merely keeping a sturdy hand on Reid's shoulder and peering hopefully into his eyes, wondering if this young man he loved as his own was finally going to let him in, let him know what was going on in that massive, haunted mind.

Reid shook his head, as if trying to signify that it was nothing, he'd just not felt well and stood, even though he leaned more on Gideon to do it than he would have liked. But he knew he would have to do more than that. Jason Gideon wasn't going to accept anything less than the truth. Reid knew it, and he was losing the will to want him to anyway.

"What's going on?" Gideon's words were solemn, letting Reid know that he'd decided it was certainly something and that he had his own definite opinion about what it might be. But he wanted to give Reid one more chance to tell him honestly himself, rather than being forced to profile a friend. He was concerned, of course, if Reid were sick, but he was plagued by the gut feeling that Reid wouldn't be so sick right now if he hadn't been keeping something from them.

Reid looked at him, not sure how to start, not having a single word to utter in answer, when usually he had so many. He knew he didn't want to fall apart here, to be pouring out the whole story at a crime scene. "Could we not talk about it right now?" he asked Gideon, his voice edging up nervously at the end of the question. "I think I've probably lost enough face right at the moment."

Gideon offered a small smile and chuckle at Reid's attempt to lighten the mood of the situation at least slightly, and clapped the young genius on the shoulder as they walked back out of the alley together. "That will be fine," he assured, just before they got near the others, "but we _will _talk later."

Reid nodded his understanding. He was going to have to tell Gideon the truth. And he didn't know where he'd stand when the truth came out.


	8. Chapter 8

(Okay, so it's been a lot longer than I meant for it to be getting this chapter posted, but it's a nice, long one at least. I hope people are still enjoying it. As always, I don't own any of it, I just really wish we could get some sort of resolution to the Reid/Dilaudid storyline, so I'm providing it for myself. And, oddly enough, I planned for it to be Gideon knocking on Reid's door in the middle of the night to talk things out, but as I was writing it, someone else showed up when Reid opened the door. So, what could I do? I just went with it. Hope you don't mind…)

And Still We Smile

Chapter Eight

_"Doubt is a pain too lonely to know that faith is his twin brother."_

_- Khalil Gibran_

As Reid lugged his tired, aching body into his hotel room that night, he wanted nothing more than to flop down on the bed and escape into oblivion for as long as he possibly could. If nothing else, judging by the fact that it was nearly 2 a.m., he figured he had managed to postpone his talk with Gideon for another day.

They'd been poring over all the information they had gathered and all their theories so far, and it seemed they finally had a viable profile to work from. It was always a relief to get their "road map" so to speak; to feel that they were that much closer to stopping a killer because they now knew the way their unsub could be caught.

But even that tiny bit of relief didn't take over the more prominent feelings of dread and worry over what the next day would bring. Not only did he distinctly feel that at any moment he could fall apart completely, but he knew that he'd finally have to admit what he'd been doing and face the consequences.

Would they take him off the case? Could he even be dismissed from the BAU? This was drug use, after all. Or would he simply get a slap on the wrist and have the Dilaudid confiscated? It would be the best thing for him, Reid knew that – since he couldn't seem to give it up on his own. But it would also mean there would be no means of solace left to him when he couldn't sleep for the thoughts racing through his head, or when the full-scale panic attacks struck him while he was trying to do his job.

With a sigh, he slipped out of the button-down and cardigan, slacks and dress shoes he'd had on all day and slipped a soft, worn gray T-shirt and plaid flannel pants from his suitcase and over his lanky body. Stretching his long, gangly limbs out to rest at last felt good. His stomach muscles ached from the violent emptying they had done that afternoon, and he was dragging from exhaustion between the constant hiding and worrying, the tension and panic all his days and most of his nights now consisted of. If only he could relax and get some real sleep.

He lay there a long time, watching the red numbers blink from one minute to another; time passing on and his eyes still unable to close, not able to bear what he might meet in his dreams. He flipped over to his stomach, then curled protectively on his side, but no position enabled him to drift off. It never did. He wanted to sleep so badly. _Needed_ to sleep… He was making himself sick, and it was only going to get worse…

Finally, with a frustrated, angry growl, he threw the sheets off his legs, swung himself up and out of bed, and stood to pad barefoot over the hotel carpet and into the bathroom. Staring at his reflection in the mirror over the sink, he took in the large, purple bags under his sleepless eyes and the nervous jump that disturbed the muscle in his jaw from time to time, and tried to avoid seeing the red, irritated skin near the inside of his elbow. There was nothing for it, if he were going to get any rest tonight before whatever he would end up facing tomorrow, he would have to have a little help… It might be the last time he'd feel the bitter comfort flooding his senses.

He'd readied the syringe of Dilaudid seemingly before he knew it, and was about to stick it in his arm, when he was interrupted by a knock on the door. Reid almost ignored it, thinking that at this time of night the knocking must be in his head, but when it came again, louder and more insistent, he knew it had to be someone wanting in.

Reid considered ignoring whoever it was, hoping they'd think he was asleep and go away. But he decided against it. If it were Gideon, who'd probably already deduced that Reid never slept well anymore, he might get overly concerned when his young agent didn't answer and before long the whole team might be out in the hallway. And Reid certainly didn't want to have the coming confessional in front of all of them.

Cursing to himself silently, he thrust the drugs and paraphernalia back into the mirrored medicine cabinet where he'd gotten them a second before. "Coming," he croaked out hoarsely, wondering why he had finally given himself away and forced this discussion to be necessary. "Just a second."

He pulled the door open, already wondering what he was going to say, when he was thrown for an even bigger loop. The person standing anxiously on the other side of his door, looking nearly as nervous, awkward, and unsure as he was, was not Gideon, but JJ.

She turned those beautiful, wide doe eyes up at him, and in that moment, all thoughts fled from his mind. No worries, no fears, no anger, no guilt, no desperate frustration, even the pain and the need for the drug was gone – if only because his brain seemed suddenly not to be functioning at all.

"Spence…" she whispered, her perfect, pale pink glossed lips forming his name as she started to explain herself, but then falling helplessly silent.

"JJ," he responded, dazed at the blank, simple comfort he suddenly felt, void of all that had been tormenting him ever since that fateful night in Georgia.

And then, his brain lurched back into gear. The anxiety and shame kicked back in. She couldn't know. _She _couldn't find out. Not JJ. He couldn't bear it. Gideon knowing was one thing, but not this woman he practically idolized, that he'd foolishly dreamed of one day impressing and making his own. "What are you doing here?" he managed to stutter.

"I couldn't sleep," she mumbled, eyes shifting down to study her feet, embarrassed it seemed. She was still dressed for the press conference they'd held that day, formal and professional all the way down to the fancy heels she still had on her feet. He doubted she'd been trying to sleep in that outfit. "For some reason, I wanted to see you. Just – just in case maybe you weren't sleeping either…" she trailed off lamely with a sheepish shrug.

Reid wasn't sure he completely bought her explanation, and he didn't quite know what to do with that. He wanted to let her in – in more ways than one. And if she couldn't sleep, if she was having problems of her own…well, he certainly wanted to be there for her. But if she was trying to discover more about his demons… He didn't know how much of that he could take.

"Spence?" she asked again, her voice tiny, not brusque and all business like it normally was. She didn't understand what his hesitation was about. "Are you going to make me stay out here?"

"Oh…right…sure, of course…sorry," he mumbled quickly, his words tumbling over themselves as he stepped back to allow her through the door. Closing it softly behind them, he turned to watch her trail softly over to the little loveseat by the window looking out on the night skyline. She daintily sat, her bright golden hair glowing in the dim room, looking as if she were ready to jump back up and run – not sure of her welcome.

Then, she glanced up at him, her eyes searching his, and she patted the spot next to her. "Sit with me, Spence?" she asked hopefully.

He did, nervously, fiddling with his hands as he sat there, suddenly trying to ignore those gorgeous eyes that were seeking his out. He wasn't sure that this was a conversation they could have.

Yet, she managed to surprise him again, reaching out to clasp his hand in both of hers and rest it on her knee. "Reid," she whispered, sounding like she had to force the word out while his breath caught in his throat at her touch. "Please talk to me. I feel like something's wrong. I'm worried about you."

His heart was suddenly thudding too fast against his ribs, jarring his nerves as he tried to think. He felt himself growing defensive as he panicked. "Why are you asking me what's wrong? Nothing's wrong! Aren't I doing my job? How am I acting any different than I usually do?" he spit out, eyes flashing to hers angrily, then darting away when she tried to hold their gaze.

"Spence, don't bullshit me," she warned, her concern for him not letting her give an inch. Then, more quietly, "I'd like to think I mean a little more to you than that."

His glance shot up from studying his bare feet to her at those words, and his brow furrowed. Just how did she mean that statement? But he didn't say anything, and JJ continued.

"You're as capable and brilliant as always. It's not your work that's concerning me. You're pulling away from us, and you're afraid of something. I can _feel _the fear. I _know_ that fear now. Don't lie to me, Spence. Don't shut me out."

Reid felt his mouth flop open and then clamp shut again, flabbergasted. How did she know? Either he wasn't as good at hiding as he'd thought or JJ was paying much more attention to him than he'd realized. He was mentally telling himself to screw the lid down tighter on his secret before he poured it all out to her, when, to his embarrassment, he could feel a sheen of unshed tears glossing his eyes, burning the lower lids as he refused to let them spill over.

"JJ, stop it," he shot back one last time, scared to let go of what he'd kept hidden for so long. "You're imagining things."

"No, I'm not," she retorted, staring right at him, every bit as determined as he was and with even more incentive. They were _not _going to lose him now – not if there was any way she could help it.

"Fine," he choked out suddenly, almost coughing on the word as it slipped out, "but you're only going to wish you didn't know. You're going to walk away and hate that I told you." Then suddenly, it was like she'd pulled the story from him, he didn't want to be alone with it anymore and this one listening ear in the middle of the night finally sliced through his defenses letting the poison drain from his wounds. He kept talking and talking, faster and faster, as if he suddenly couldn't get all he'd been holding inside out fast enough. When he finished, he stood and stalked into the bathroom, got the Dilaudid and syringe, brought them to her and laid them in her hands. "I couldn't quit it on my own, and I couldn't tell any of you either so that someone could take it from me. It's sick and pathetic, and I know you don't even want to still be sitting here with me now that you know, so why don't you just get out and leave me alone?" Angrily, he swiped at the couple tears that had gotten away and glared at her as if daring her to show the disappointment she must be feeling in him and walk out. She'd tell Hotch, and that would be it, he'd be off the team and he'd lose all of them.

JJ merely sat there, stunned, not sure how to respond to Reid's confession, nor to the sheer force of emotion radiating off him. He rarely allowed any of his feelings to surface and now she was seeing all of it, laid bare clear down into his soul. But she wasn't disappointed in him, didn't think any less of him – as a federal agent, or as a man – she only wanted to make the hurt better, now that he'd finally given her the chance.

Setting the drugs he'd handed over to her aside, she took a deep breath, only able to hope and pray she'd say the right thing for him. Then, tentatively, she spoke, staring right into his eyes all the while, "Spence, listen to me, please. I don't want to be anywhere other than right here, trying to help you understand that I don't think any less of you, and neither would anyone else on the team. You've been dealing with something horrible, something no one should have to deal with alone. You should have told someone sooner, but the trauma and the addiction aren't your fault. You didn't want these drugs, you didn't choose them, Tobias forced them into your system until your body thought it needed them. You've been choosing them since then, but you can also choose to stop now. You can make this right. I can guarantee that everyone will be in your corner if you stand up and fight this. You've been getting by with all this pressing in on you better than most people ever could. Don't for a second think about giving up now. And don't fool yourself into thinking we'd blame you for this or suddenly stop caring about you. It's just not true."

He sighed sadly, holding onto her hand like a lifeline, wishing he could bring himself to believe completely in her words. He knew he needed her – and the whole team's – help. Bowing his head, he leaned forward for just a second, barely allowing his forehead to rest on her shoulder for a moment and permitting her graceful fingers to soothingly sift through his hair just once. Then he pulled back and stared into her face, searching, looking as vulnerable as he'd ever been. "What do I do?" he whispered, dreading almost any option he could think of.

JJ stood, pulling him to his feet and guiding him over to his bed. She switched effortlessly into her capable care-giving, fix everything role and told him simply. "You're going to actually get some sleep," he started to interrupt, but she plowed right ahead, brooking no arguments, "I'll stay right here in this chair beside you and read, so it's fine, just relax and get some rest."

She saw the guilty look cross his face, wondered for a moment if he'd refuse her, and then continued, knowing he felt bad but truly wanting him to be able to feel safe until morning, without the help of the Dilaudid. "Then, in the morning, when things will seem clearer, I promise, you'll take it all to Hotch and tell him the whole truth. I'll go with you. And we'll get through this, Spence. You're going to be okay."


	9. Chapter 9

(Sorry for the wait, but here's the next chapter. This story is winding down now, and I'm thankful for those of you who've read it and been kind enough to give me some feedback. I still don't own any of the characters or anything about the show, I just have ideas for things I wish could happen…)

And Still We Smile

Chapter Nine

"There is no despair so absolute as that which comes with the first moments 

_of our first great sorrow; when we have not yet known what it is to have suffered _

_and healed, to have despaired and recovered hope."_

_- George Eliot_

Reid woke the next morning to the sun slanting brightly in his eyes from the small crack between the curtains. He was stopped from stretching and throwing off the covers by the sudden awareness of someone's cold toes into the curve at the back of his knees.

Used to sleeping very much alone, Reid was startled to say the least. He glanced over quickly to find JJ curled up in the chair beside his bed, hers legs propped up on the mattress and somehow unwittingly snuggled to the warmth of his own. Her book lay, page lost, in her lap, and her mouth was just slightly open as she dozed. She looked positively adorable, and he was surprised to realize that the sight of her there when he woke had a genuine smile curving across his face.

The disintegration of his family, and then his mother's sanity, at such a young age had made Spence Reid almost painfully independent, and he knew that if it weren't for the team, he could easily have completely closed off within himself long ago. And it was at time like this now, glancing over at JJ and discovering how nice it was to have someone with him – at his side, knowing what he was going through – that he saw how much he still tried to handle everything alone. And sometimes, when it couldn't really be done alone, he was only hurting himself.

With a smile, he carefully sat up and scooted from under the sheets and out of the bed on the other side without disturbing JJ. Certainly, after her spending the night in a chair just to help him feel safe and the tiniest bit more comfortable, the least he could do was let her get some rest now if she could. A goofy smile kept creeping across his face despite how horrible he'd feel for days and weeks up until this morning, as he leaned across JJ to drape a blanket over her and make sure that he neck wasn't cramped at a strange angle. Then, he headed into the bathroom where the hotel room's coffeemaker sat and started a fresh pot brewing. It was amazing what a few hours' sleep and someone to share his burden with had done for him.

It was this thought that sobered his good mood again. The grin slid back off his face when he thought of telling Hotch that he'd been injecting himself with Dilaudid he'd stolen off of Tobias Hankel's body and now he feared that he was addicted. He didn't know just how many rules he'd broken, how much trust he had betrayed, who all he could have hurt, but while he'd been lost in that hazy world of fear and pain and confusion everything else had slipped out of focus and he hadn't been able to bring himself to care about or consider the others or even the consequences as he normally would have.

It was still early, before six, and he began to worry over what he would say, how he would finally come clean; practicing and running it through his head. Reid was so engrossed in fact that he didn't even hear the footsteps tiptoeing quietly up behind him as JJ entered the room, still wrapped in the blanket and stopped just short of reaching him, watching his actions hopefully.

She'd woken up almost as soon as the bed beneath her legs had shifted upon losing his weight and then she'd felt a cover being gently laid over her. Now, stepping into the light of early morning sunrise and seeing him standing there leaning against the sink in his pjs, looking so typically 'Reid' as he puzzled something over while awaiting his caffeine fix, she couldn't help thinking how nice it would be to see him this way every morning. It seemed so normal and easy. The thought startled her and flitted away nearly as soon as she had it, and her cheeks blossomed prettily in a rosy blush. _'Where did that come from?' _she wondered.

Reid glanced up to see her watching him, gave her a small smile and hitched his shoulder, half-shrugging. "Would you like some coffee before we face the firing squad?" he asked.

JJ returned his smile with one of her own and nodded as he handed her a mug and poured the steaming liquid into it.

They made their way back into the main room and sat across from each other at the small table, sipping quietly.

Reid watched as she tipped the mug and her eyes peeped over the brim of it, making her appear much younger for a second. Those eyes were as dark and all-encompassing as always against the contrast of her golden hair and flawless skin. Capable, knowing, compassionate, and still able to glimpse at optimism and innocence from time to time.

She put her cup down and stood, coming over to give him a quick hug, which completely threw him off. She met his eyes and held them, until he smiled back at her, feeling settled again at last. "Spence," she whispered, not letting him break the connection for even a second, "it truly is going to work out. Things will be better from here on it. I _know _it."

He nodded, wanting very much to believe her. When their coffee was gone, they went their separate ways to freshen up and change into their clothes for the day. She was back at his door within twenty minutes, and as they headed down the hall to Hotch's room, signs of the hotel's other guests starting to stir greeted their eyes and ears. Pausing as he reached the door, Reid drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, attempting to collect himself one final time. Then, raising his hand, he rapped three times on the wood surface and stood back waiting for Hotch to answer, somehow, hoping against hope that he wouldn't.

But, of course, despite fervent nervous prayers to the contrary, Hotch opened the door after only minute, already in his dress shirt and slacks, the only difference to his usual look being that he was still in the process of knotting his tie.

"Yes?" he asked, seeing his two youngest agents standing outside his door and the serious looks on their faces. His brow arched suspiciously as he studied them, trying to gauge what was going on.

"Can I come in for a minute?" Reid asked, fidgeting inspite of his best efforts to steady himself.

Hotch gave a curt nod, his jaw clenching unconsciously as he realized that something was wrong, and stepped aside so they could enter. But as they did, Reid felt an inexplicable amount of relief when JJ simply slipped her hand into his and held it as he began to speak. "Hotch, there's something I have to tell you…"


	10. Chapter 10

(Hey, sorry for the long wait on this chapter, my attention got kidnapped by a CSI:NY one-shot I wanted to try and I couldn't focus until I got that out of my system  Thanks to all those who have been patient and are still reading. There's one more chapter after this.)

And Still We Smile

Chapter 10

_"When you get into a tight place and everything goes against you till it _

_ seems you could not hold on a minute longer, never give up, for that _

_ is just the place and time that the tide will turn."_

_- Harriet Beecher Stowe_

Aaron Hotchner was a man of decision; of certain action. He didn't hesitate or second-guess. There were black and white laws and beliefs, and not allowing for gray area made him the leader that he was; made him able to do his job. That hard-line approach, that certainty of absolutes, was what made him good.

And yet, he had never been faced with this before. One of his agents – one of his own – stood before him, admitting their own guilt. Though he wanted it to be a lie, or a prank, or a set-up, Hotch knew that it was none of those things, nothing but the most awful of all: the truth. Reid had sat down before him and spewed out the story as quickly as he could –as though ripping a Band-Aid off a gaping wound it couldn't hold. To hear it straight from Reid in an anguished tone that Hotch had never heard the young genius use before, made it impossible for Hotch to deny.

Steepling his hands at his forehead for a moment, he let out a steadying breath, choosing his next words carefully. The father in him wanted to make sure Spencer Reid was alright, to gather the suffering young man up and hold onto him until whatever had been broken inside him was fixed. He'd followed that instinct only once before, when they had finally found Reid that night at Hankel's. Then, he had wanted to feel for himself that Reid was there, and in one piece, and alright, and he wanted to do the same now. He wanted to be sure that his youngest agent would be taken care of from now on.

But the team leader, the true believer in the FBI and all it stood for, even down to the smallest details and rules, the man who knew what had to be done and didn't fail to carry that out, knew now wasn't the time for that – he couldn't be Reid's friend, father figure, or surrogate older brother right now. There was too much at stake.

"This is serious, Reid," he ground out slowly, his hands clenching in on themselves as his forearms rested on the desk and his eyes hardened and grew darker. "You've been hurting yourself, abusing an illegal substance while serving as a federal agent, and lying to all of us – for months."

Reid's head bowed slightly, offering no response; no argument or defense of his actions, only a slight sort of nod of acceptance. He looked back up and met Hotch's eyes though, as if wanting to convey his honesty now, willingness to take whatever consequences Hotch was now forced to give him.

Hotch's eyes flicked over to JJ sitting beside Reid, her one hand's fingers twined with his, and the other hand resting bracingly on his arm. "Have you known this long?" Hotch asked her abruptly, hating that he had to, that this thing had the possibility of getting even messier. "Have you been helping him hide this?" He didn't believe it, knew that her sense of duty would be too strong to allow something like this to go on under all their noses, but he still had to make sure, had to confirm it.

Her mouth fell open, looking both shocked and hurt, as if she hadn't even considered him asking that question. Before she could recollect herself to respond, Reid cut in.

"Hotch, no, she didn't know," he blurted out. "She thought something was wrong, and she showed up at my door last night, trying to find out what. But she didn't know that, well, that it was what it was. I hadn't told anyone until she dragged it out of me."

Hotch gave a curt nod, accepting that answer, glad at least that he didn't have to reprimand JJ as well. In fact, they ought to be thanking her for pushing Reid when the rest of them had backed off. Or else this could have continued for much longer. With a sigh, he resigned himself to finishing this conversation. It had to be done. "What exactly do you want me to do, Reid?" he asked.

Reid shook his head sadly, not sure he knew any sort of answer he could give that would be enough to repair the damage he had done. "I don't know," he whispered. "I just realized that I couldn't keep it from you anymore. I trust you'll do whatever you have to, Hotch, and that it will be the right thing."

Hotch paused just a moment, an uncharacteristic glimmer of uncertainty flashing through his eyes before he visibly seemed to make up his mind. Looking first JJ and then Reid directly in the eye, he spoke at last, his words carrying the weight of his responsibility and his regret for what he had to say. "You'll have to agree to some sort of treatment program – as soon as possible – and see a counselor as well, for as many sessions as they deem necessary. You'll be listed as on medical leave indefinitely." Here Hotch paused, only the expression that entered his eyes giving away what he was feeling, "When you're well…when you've dealt with this…we'll see about your place here in the BAU."

Reid felt his insides quivering, helpless to stop it, but he kept his face impassive, holding Hotch's gaze steadily. He knew the older man didn't really have any other choice and was doing what would in the end be best for him. It was merely the thought of being cut out of the only place that he'd ever managed to make for himself in the world that hurt. It was enough to make his control freefall, and he struggled to, just barely, keep it in check.

He knew it could have been much worse. Hotch could have fired him outright – he could even have been facing legal charges. All he did was nod, and say quietly, "Understood."

Hotch got to his feet, and Reid and JJ quickly followed suit. Ending the oppressive conversation, Hotch said, "Wheels up at nine, we'll be heading back home."

Reid turned to go, still clutching JJ's hand, grateful that she at least was still with him. If he did end up having to leave the BAU, would she still be in his life? Would any of them? Would he have even one of them left as friends? He had to hope that since JJ cared as much as she'd already shown, she would still stand by him, whether or not she was still his teammate. Maybe he'd even find a way to trust that Gideon's fatherly caring, Morgan's open, easy friendship, and Hotch's brotherly affection would extend to him simply as a person and not just a coworker.

Hotch hadn't been very encouraging, but then, he had just had the bombshell dumped in his lap without warning. Would he come around, in time, or would he look on Reid with disappointment from now on? As his hand reached out for the doorknob, Hotch's voice stopped him. His voice was gentler now, warmer, as he spoke again. "Reid, you focus on getting well. We're all behind you – whatever happens."

Pulse racing suddenly with a flutter of emotions, Reid turned, blinking rapidly, to nod to Hotch in acknowledgement. Maybe everything else would fall to pieces, but with those few words, he knew. He wasn't going to lose them – not completely.


	11. Chapter 11

(Hey everyone. This is the last chapter, and I really want to thank you for being patient waiting for updates, and also for reading it and for the kind reviews I've gotten. I've been putting this last update off. I'm kinda sad to finish this story, since I've had such a good time trying to get inside their heads. Anyway, here it is, the last installment.)

(And of course, as always, I don't own the show or the characters, I'm just wishing I knew what they were going to do next. )

And Still We Smile

Chapter 11 (epilogue)

_"Hope springs eternal in the human breast,_

_ Man never __**is**__, but always __**to be **__blest."_

_-Alexander Pope, "Essay on Man"_

Two months later

The FBI headquarters at Quantico were buzzing that morning. As always, phones were ringing, people were darting here and there on business, life-saving work was going on. But in the bullpen of the BAU several people stood gathered around a desk covered in flowers, balloons, and several heavy, square, brightly gift-wrapped packages that all looked suspiciously like books. They were whispering amongst themselves, and kept glancing anxiously back at the elevator letting people onto their floor, waiting impatiently for someone to arrive.

"What time did he tell you he'd be here?" Morgan asked, turning to look at JJ as he did.

"At nine, as always," JJ responded, grinning in good-natured jest at Morgan's agitation. "Take it easy. He didn't know we'd all be waiting for him like this. If he's running a minute late, he probably won't think much of it."

Morgan nodded, but a look of concern crossed Emily Prentiss' features nervously. "Will this upset him?" she asked, highly aware that she still didn't really know the true Reid all that well. "We don't want to make him uncomfortable, do we?"

But Gideon shook his head slightly, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder for a second. "It will be fine," he assured her. "He'll be embarrassed to be the center of attention. But underneath that, he'll be pleased to know how glad we are to have him back. Spencer has a hard time expressing it, but he sees us as his family and I think he needs this. It means more than he'd let on to us out loud."

Prentiss took this explanation with a grateful smile at Gideon for his assurance, and they returned to waiting for their youngest team member in silence.

Finally, with a ding that alerted them all of its arrival, the elevator reached the BAU's floor once again, and opened to reveal Spencer Reid standing inside. He looked just as much the gawky resident genius as he always had. His horn-rimmed glasses rested comfortably on the bridge of his nose, his ever-present knapsack was slung over one shoulder, and he carried a thermos of coffee in one hand and several file folders in his arms.

He looked up and saw the whole team gathered waiting on him, just as they all began to call out, "Surprise!" and "Welcome back!"

JJ and Garcia came forward to pull him in toward the rest of the group when he paused, looking flabbergasted at the noisy welcome. Garcia planted a kiss on his cheek and wrapped him up in a tight, enthusiastic hug, saying, "We missed you around here, Sweetie. It's good to have you back."

Reid smiled then, genuinely, if a bit awkward. "Thanks," he replied, speaking to her and the rest of the group as well. "I missed you guys too."

JJ's face bore a look of deep satisfaction and pride as she stood next to him, just looking up at his face. He'd been through a lot, but he'd also come out on the other side, with himself still intact, ready to resume his life and face some more. Their job would never be easy or pleasant, but it did a lot for her peace of mind to see him truly happy to be back. It told her he was no longer so afraid.

Reid glanced down at her just then, seeing the expression on her face, and got a knowing look in his deep brown eyes. She had been there from the beginning, more than anyone else. She'd been the one to finally wrangle the admission of what was wrong from him, she'd visited him in the rehab facility he had chosen every day that the team wasn't gone somewhere on a case, and she was here beside him now, knowing him better, he realized, than anyone ever had. Uncharacteristically, before he could lose his nerve, he bent slightly, and placed a kiss, quick and light, on her forehead, surprising her, and himself.

JJ didn't say anything, but flushed prettily and slipped an arm around his waist as they stepped forward into the circle of their team.

"You've got presents, man," Morgan said, stepping up and shaking Reid's hand, only to then pull him in closer for a one-armed hug.

"Cool," Reid replied, brushing a lock of his forever escaping hair back behind his ear again and studying the array of brightly colored boxes before him. "Are any of them books?"

Morgan couldn't help laughing out loud heartily at Reid's eager expression, and the laughter of the rest of the group soon followed.

"They might be," Prentiss answered teasingly, holding up on of the packages and offering it to him tentatively, with a hopeful smile, as her eyes met his. "Here, start with mine and find out."

Reid took the proffered gift and gave her a warm look of thanks in return. Mentally, he reminded himself that he needed to talk to Emily later – apologize for the way he had treated her in Texas, and in New Orleans. Maybe he could finally get to know her.

Gleefully, Reid tried for the moment to stop worrying and tossed concern aside to rip into her gift. As he tossed the paper away, he let out a breath of surprise and picked up the book he'd unwrapped, as if to examine it more closely and be sure he was really seeing what he thought he was.

Bemused by Reid's engrossed reaction, happy to see him surprised and pleased, Gideon quietly prompted, "What is it?"

Reid held the thick tome out then, so that the rest could see its cover. "Proust," he whispered, his voice quiet, stunned.

"Do you like it?" Emily asked hopefully, having guessed at an author based on a hunch and something she'd seen several months before.

"He actually one of my favorite authors, but I don't have this collection of his work," Reid replied. "How did you know?" He swallowed, and ran his fingers caressingly over the gold lettering of the title. "My…my mom read Proust to me when I was younger." He paused almost as though weighing whether he'd really wanted to give out that personal detail or not, then looked back up at her curiously.

Emily's mouth quirked up on one side as she answered. "Well, for one thing, what I've read of Proust seemed like stuff you would like. But I also heard you mumbling to yourself once in the break room while you were making yourself some coffee, and it sounded like you were quoting a Proust passage to yourself."

Reid flushed slightly, embarrassed that someone had seen that, but then shrugged and admitted, "I was. I didn't have the book with me, but I was trying to remember this particular line, and so I was running through the page in my head until I came up with it.

Emily nodded, "Well, I think you, and your mother too, have good taste. I've always been a Proust fan myself." She smiled again, simply, and just like that, as he smiled back, Reid could see that she understood why he'd acted the way he had to her before, and though he still wanted to apologize, he thought that it was probably already forgiven.

"Okay, break up the egghead convention," Morgan broke in, grinning to show he was only kidding them both. And then he was pushing his gift into Reid's hands as well.

Garcia swatted him on the arm playfully for his comment, to which his only response was to wink at her over his shoulder. Reid continued to happily open gifts and talk with his long-missed teammates. They all seemed to be vying to talk to him at once, except for JJ, who said nothing at all, only linked her arm through his, leaned her head on his shoulder and watched the celebrating go on around her.

Gideon and Hotch stepped back just a bit, quietly watching their team whole and healed again at last, and Hotch finally allowed himself a breath of relief. He glanced over to Gideon, studying the older profiler's face, waiting to hear if Jason's assessment would match his own.

With a small smile that was both wise and beautiful in how comforting Hotch found it just then, Gideon glanced back at him and murmured, "I think we may finally have him back."

Hotch's only response was a small nod of his head, but inside he could feel a sense of peace that he'd wondered if he would feel again. As the team's leader, he felt he had somehow failed to keep them all safe in Georgia, and then been woefully incapable of putting things back together again afterwards. But now, now it finally seemed as though everyone might be alright. The team would fight on for another day, with all of them there swinging.

He and Gideon rejoined the group without another word, and the seven of them continued to laugh and joke until Reid had opened all his presents and everyone had sampled some of the cake that Garcia had brought in for the occasion. Everyone had just slowly began to meander back to their own desks or offices when JJ's phone rang, startling them into attention.

They listened to her side of the conversation for a few minutes until she ended the call to turn and face them. "New case," she informed them. "I'll go get the presentation and files ready for you."

Hotch nodded in approval, then watched as she turned to walk off only to be stopped by Reid's hand grasping hers. "I'll help you put it together if you'd like," he said softly enough that only she could hear it. She nodded, and they continued on their way, now discreetly holding hands. Hotch couldn't help the very tiny smile that touched his mouth for a moment as he watched them go. Then he turned to the others, announced the briefing in the conference room in 30 minutes, and headed for his own office to make a couple calls before they went out in the field again.

Morgan swiveled around in his chair, gave Prentiss and Garcia a wide, irresistible grin and said, "Here we go again."

As they reconvened for the briefing, everyone felt the rightness of them all being around the table again, starting off all together on a new case. And it was Gideon who glanced over a Reid quickly, just to make sure he was okay, and saw the look spreading across his face. It was joy, small at first but growing with each second…joy to be alive, to be back where he belonged, and doing what he was meant to do. The smile that broke across his face, even as he listened to Hotch and JJ and began thinking through the new case, was genuine. And despite all it had taken to get here, he was finally home.


End file.
